


The Great Tevinter Fire Wine Incident

by BelleWrites (sunleyemrys)



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Humor, Poor Alistair, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 10:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13246569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunleyemrys/pseuds/BelleWrites
Summary: Amell and Hawke like to challenge each other. Amell has found some rare wine to share at their first meeting. It goes poorly.This event was mentioned in a previous piece (Tavern Stories) and multiple people on r/dragonage has requested I write the scene. It became a lot longer than I was planning, but I think it really sets the tone for the characters.





	The Great Tevinter Fire Wine Incident

The archdemon is gone, Amaranthine has been saved, the Wardens were rebuilding. So why in the name of the Maker was Solona hunting for a Cure for the Blight in a wine shop in Ostwick of all places? Alistair wasn’t really sure, he knew they were headed toward Kirkwall to meet up with some cousin of hers that had been recently dubbed “The Champion”, according to Solona they had sent letters to each other over the years, but had never met face to face because her cousin was an apostate and refused to live in a cage.

Solona hummed quietly as she browsed the shelves. Her red hair had grown from its short wavy look and now hung down her back in a tight braid. She had traded mage robes for simple travelling clothes because of the large Templar presence in the Free Marches, and there was nothing to identify her as mage or as a Warden-Commander, much less the Hero of Fereldan. It was a good look on her, he thought, she seemed more at ease with herself. Less the shy, polite, fresh from the Circle mage he had met six years ago, she was a wonder to him, she moved through the circles of politics and handled people in power with a cunning he certainly didn’t have. She would have made a great Queen, Alistair thought, but they had both decided it was not what they wanted in their shared life.

“Aha! Found it!” Solona grabbed a dusty bottle from the rack and read the label. “Minrathous Fire Wine. An urban legend dear cousin? Thought not.” She held the bottle up, showing Alistair. The liquid inside was a mix of reds, yellows and oranges, swirling chaotically.

“What are you going to do with that, Love?” To be completely honest, the bottle of wine scared him a little. He still remembered with vivid detail the last time Solona had imbibed in strange alcohols, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to chase her around Ostwick while she tried to become a dragon.

Solona gave him an incredulous look. “Oh, I dunno, I thought I would use it clean our leathers.” The shop keeper overhead this and sputtered. “Oh, calm down. Can’t you tell when someone is being sarcastic?” She handed the bottle to Alistair, it was warm, warmer than a bottle of wine should be.

“I figured we could buy two bottles, have one for ourselves, and take the other one to Marian in Kirkwall.” She grinned wickedly. “Its always fun to prove my smug cousin wrong. Especially when it comes to alcohol.”

She snatched another bottle of the brew, and counted out the appropriate coin to give to the merchant. “Do you have any ribbon? I want to tie the smuggest bow on the bottle I give my cousin.” The shop keeper having calmed down, just rolled his eyes and pulled out a bit of gaudy gold and red ribbon and tied an enormous bow on the neck of one of the bottles.

“Come on dear husband. Let’s go back to the Inn and try this out!” Solona tugged on Alistair’s arm while he mumbled, “but we aren’t married yet.”

“Semantics.” She responded, leading him away.

Back in their room at the Wicked Maiden, Solona had convinced the surly innkeeper to send tonight’s dinner into their rooms. If she wasn’t extremely opposed to blood magic, Alistair would wonder how she managed to get everyone to adore her and agreed to her something ridiculous requests.

She flopped onto the giant bed, nudging her boots off. “We should be in Kirkwall in a week or so, do you want to wait until we met my cousin, or should we do it now?” Solona waggled her eyebrows suggestively at him.

“I’m not trying that vile liquid with just the two of us. There is no telling what chaos will ensue.” Alistair curled up next to her. He was kind of excited to meet one of the few people in Amell’s family that were still alive. His own relatives being a bit of a disappointment, he had hopes that hers would be something she could think of fondly.

“Spoil sport.” Solona accused. “Guess that means you want the wedding to happen in Kirkwall too, huh?”

Alistair sat up, “you were the one that wanted your cousin to be there. I was perfectly fine with walking into any Chantry and doing it right there.”

Solona tossed her hands in the air. “Oh fine! You’re right. Jeez. In a week then.”

~~~

“Kirkwall is… depressing.” Solona said, staring up at the giant statues. It had been a long week of travelling, and weather had not been kind to them.

“I wonder if someone had a height complex?” Alistair mused, “Or maybe was overcompensating for something below the belt.” Solona shot him a look. “By the Maker, must you say everything that crosses your mind?”

He dropped an arm over her shoulders, pulling her close. “Admit it, it one of my endearing traits.” He kissed her temple. “Better than your cooking that’s for sure.

They looked through the crowd of people, trying to spot Marian. “What does your cousin look like anyway?” Alistair asked.

Solona stood on her toes to try and see over people better. “Well, kind of like me. We’re both redheads, though I think shes taller. Might be easier to look for her, uh, boyfriend seems to childish to call him.” She stopped to think. “The elf that she does the horizontal remigold with.” Alistair’s eyes widen, “Wynne was right. I am a bad influence on you.” She laughed. “Well what does he look like then?”

“White hair, lyrium tattoos, sword bigger than his whole body.” She rattled off, leaving out details Marian had written about that had caused her to blush.

Alistair looked around and finally pointed. “You mean that guy over there, who looks ready to punch the dwarf standing next to the leggy redhead?” Solona looked where he was pointing. “Yes!”

“MARIAN!” Solona yelled, waving enthusiastically. The tall redhead looked and broke into a huge smile, rushing towards the pair.

“Solona! Cousin!” She embraced the smaller woman. “Its so good to finally meet you!” Marian let go of Solona, turning toward Alistair. “And how do I address you? Your Majesty?” Marian did look a great deal like Solona, down to the smug smirk on her face.

“Alistair is fine. No need for titles.” He waved her off, blushing slightly. Seems Solona had shared the details of his bloodline with Marian. She clapped his shoulder, half-way hugging him. “Good, I don’t stand on ceremony, and cant stand when people lord titles and birthrights as an excuse to be an asshole.”

“No, you’re just an asshole because its funny.” The beardless dwarf said approaching them. “Varric Tethras.” He extended a hand to Alistair.

Marian rolled her bright blue eyes, “yes yes, I know, so many ‘incidents’ could have been avoided if I had been polite or kept my mouth shut. But where is the fun in that?”

She looked over her shoulder to the scowling elf. “By Andraste’s knickers. Fenris! Get over here! Geez, they wont bite.” The elf stalked over, hovering slightly behind Hawke.

“Solona, Alistair, this is Fenris. He is my, um, uh.” She gestured helplessly in his direction. “Hes my Fenris?”

Solona giggled, shaking her head. “That’s a far more appropriate introduction than I was expecting.”

“You were expecting me to go into extreme detail about his many virtues and prowess in the…” A tattooed hand clamped over Hawke’s mouth, silencing her.

“That is quite enough Marian.” Fenris said, slightly annoyed. Her bright eyes met his in challenge before he suddenly felt something very damp across his palm. Fenris yanked his hand away with a noise of disgust. “You licked me!”

Solona and Marian laughed. “She could have bitten you. Which would you have preferred?”

Fenris wiped his hand on the leg of his trousers, “neither if that is a choice.”

“It isn’t.” Was the combined response.

Varric faced Alistair, “So there are two Hawke’s now? How will Kirkwall survive?”

Marian clasped Solona’s arm, “Come one, lets get the two of you set up. Then we’ll all go to the Hanged Man!”

Fenris shook his head, following behind, “Aveline is going to go ballistic.”

After they got settled in Hawke’s estate, Solona dug out the bottles of Fire Wine, presenting one to Marian.

“Damn, you were right. I was sure they were a myth.” Marian set the bottle on the table, the ribbon still tied to it and a giant note that read “TOLD YOU SO!!”

Fenris examined the bottle, reading the letter carefully. “Minrathous Fire Wine? And excellent year too.” He worked the cork out with a loud pop and smoke curled from the opening, he gave it a brief sniff. “Its very potent. Why did you think it was a myth? I could have told you it was real.”

“Because, dear Fenris,” Marian took the bottle from him and poured the four of them drinks. “I know you don’t like talking about Tevinter, and it was only wine.”

“Wine that was apparently important enough that your cousin has to prove you wrong.” He sipped the liquid, slowly exhaling the smoke.

Marian scoffed, swirling her glass. “We compete and challenge each other on many things. This,” she nodded towards the smoking bottle. “was something Solona had read about but never seen, and the text it came from was hundreds of years old. So, myth.”

Solona sipped the wine, her nose curling slightly. “This might be stronger than that Deep Roads ale Oghren got.”

Alistair had been busy petting Marian’s mabari, and had missed what was being said beyond the cousins challenging each other. Absently he grabbed his glass, and drank it down in one gulp.

It burned, it was like acid, and ice, and lava, and Dalish mint, all at once. Three sets of eyes fixed on him in shock. He held his hands over his closed mouth, eyes wide in terror.

“Grab some water!” Solona yelped, Marian dashing towards the kitchen. She pried Alistair’s hands away from his face. “You have to open your mouth, let the smoke out. Its going to do more harm if you try to keep it in.”

Alistair shook his head, he wasn’t about to spew fire, or worse, throw up, in the company of his love’s cousin and companion. The embarrassment would kill him. Better to let the alcohol swiftly end his life, then deal with that.

Sweat was rolling down his body, there was too much heat, and he couldn’t breathe. He smelled like bacon, he knew it. Roasting from the inside. The vile liquid burning a path through his blood. Solona’s hands were cool on his face, pleading with him to just open his mouth and let the heat out. He couldn’t do that, it might hurt her.

Marian rushed back into the room, with a pitcher of ice water and promptly dumped it over Alistair’s head. The shock of the ice causing his mouth to open with a gasp, smoke and sparks erupting from his mouth as everything stopped smoldering inside.

He coughed a few times as Marian slapped his back, and Solona checked him over carefully for injuries.

Fenris, having not moved from his chair spoke, “It is a sipping wine.” He took a small drink, and exhaled from his nose, smoke curling out.


End file.
